


mistletoe

by sinnabonka (orphan_account)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Christmas, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mistletoe, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sinnabonka
Summary: “You know you could simply ask me for a kiss, dear?” Aziraphale placed his hand onto demon’s chest and sighed. “No need to tempt me any longer.”“But what’s the fun of simply asking for it?"
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 44





	mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by lovely art: https://katartstrophe.tumblr.com/post/189569248516/happy-holidays-i-signed-up-for-the-good-omens

A sudden gust of wind creaked the door open and brought the roar of the street inside. Aziraphale stood on the small step ladder, placing new members of his collection on the proud top shelf above the counter, too occupied to turn around and greet the unwelcomed customer. The gentle ding of the bell above the door drew his attention just for a moment, enough though to make him roll his eyes. When the last book has found its place, the angel stepped down on the floor and faced the entrance with a tense, but still soft smile.

  
“How can I help..?" 

  
The question hung in the air, slowly whirling down like a lazy snowflake. Aziraphale eyed the empty bookshop, his look was slowly travelling between the shelves full of his treasures, stopped at the Christmas tree for a moment, checked the closed door. He frowned. He had a clear feeling of someone’s presence and it never had failed him.  
The angel left the counter and started to walk around the place. Slowly, carefully approaching the reading area with two armchairs, he spoke, and his voice echoed off the walls:

"Show yourself!” he grabbed the first thing, somehow reminiscent of a weapon - a statue of an angel, a cherubim, to be precise, a little chubby child with a harp. Aziraphale glanced at it with confusion, not sure how this should help him against the robber, but he had no time to look for anything better. _His faith was his best weaponry after all._

“Come on out, you sneaky coward.” he snapped his fingers and in a distance the lock on the main door clicked. “Either way, you will have to face me to walk away, there’s only one exit here.”

The dark shadow crawled past his foot.  
Something rustled right behind him.

“We both know you are lying.”

Aziraphale turned around and screamed, swinging the poor baby cherubim.  
“Good Lord, Crowley!” Aziraphale let out the sigh of relief, looking into the glowing golden eyes. “I almost…”  
“What, angel?” the demon smirked. “Smashed my head with your bare ass relative?” Crowley came closer, the smile on his face widening with each step. “One day you had a flaming sword, Aziraphale, _shining like anything_ …”

Aziraphale felt the blush blooming onto his cheeks and lowered his gaze, placing the cherubim on the nearest shelf. 

“What are you even doing here?”  
“You know, just came to check on you.” murmured the demon, thin fingers touching the angel’s chin. He made Aziraphale look up at him and smiled, this time softly and kindly, leaving no place for the good old sarcasm. “Ain’t you happy to see me, angel?”

“I might have been.” stubbornly looking him directly in the eye, answered Aziraphale. “But not after you’ve been lurking around, _scarring_ _the Hell_ _out of me._ You can’t do this!”  
“I am a demon, we do lurk.” Crowley arched his brow.

“Why on Earth would you hide in the dark and sneak out to reading room?” taking a deep breath to calm himself down, grunted the angel.  
“To place _this_ up here,” smiled Crowley, lifting the angel’s chin gently, “and to lure you under.”

Aziraphale’s face started to shine, when his sight was pointed to the mistletoe, hanging above their heads. He looked back at the demon, who was about to explode because of all the love his body was containing. The angel’s heart was trembling, feeling that heat, coming in long uneven waves.

“You know you could simply ask me for a kiss, dear?” Aziraphale placed his hand onto demon’s chest and sighed. “No need to tempt me any longer.”

“But what’s fun about _simply asking for it?_ " 

Aziraphale grabbed him by collar and pulled for a kiss, starting softly and gently, but warming up with every second.

  
"Marry Christmas, my willy old serpent.” whispered the angel, breaking the kiss for a moment.  
“Marry Christmas, angel.” murmured Crowley, and closed the gap between their lips again.


End file.
